Oops :)

Our last thought-
Will continue to haunt until its arrival
and then we are gone

 

OH Mannn! How did I publish this originally with the first word misspelled? I’ll tell you. I was scrambling to finish work items, while dripping from my shower, while watching my son pop awake via the monitor, and while desperately trying to toss tags into place so I could click publish and move on with my day. lol..then, I see in my email my wonderfully misspelled word. Oh well, shit happens.

Any parent who works, and juggles children knows exactly what I’m talking about.

If you see a horribly misspelled word, you can give me shit. I think it’s funny and I enjoy laughing at myself. I feel for the humans who follow me via email though. They, like me, received an email with the content. lol not pretty.

Anyway, go smash some shit, have fun, drive into mud too deep and spit while doing so. Into your window. Because you forgot to open it.

🙂

 

 

A Poem – to visit this place

a whiskey-sour waits with strong patience-
the wood floor, covered with booted footprints, didn’t ask permission to be
and the patrons themselves loved both the old floor and their friendly whiskey

forget calculated questions, they never matter much anyway, ask truly how the day went
and listen.
listen with bent heads and shaking of the hands for another day to break

it’s worth the while to visit this place
soon the whiskey-sour is empty and another is needed
want has nothing to do with it
and now the door opens itself to greet with the rest

elevated laughter sounds off,
a man is hitting at his leg, he is wearing blue jeans, dust explodes
his eyes are smiling- he stops at the hitting of his leg to finds his bottle of beer
the bottle is small in his hand

outside is becoming dark, though not dark enough
drinks are given and received while men and women trade secrets
the floor listens to them all, and collects each with normal curiosity

the whiskey-sour, no longer needs to be patient
tonight the chorus of life drinks heartily and happily
without hesitation, for hesitation breeds inability to act,
and to not act would be to not visit this place

-M. Taggart
copyright 2017

 

Odd Walking Thoughts

The non-listeners with years of experience tell so well how it was. A child cries while a mother watches her show. the father paddles around the house. It’s sad really. With the child seeing the most. Watch as the mother pushes her child away to view her show. Watch as the father ushers the child toward the mother. Watch as the child tosses a fit and slams head into floor, knowing what’s next. And still goes the mouth that had never been.

-M. Taggart